


Hooked on a Feeling

by panicatthesipsco



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality Spectrum, Bisexual Character, Exhibitionism, Hat Films, M/M, Multi, Phone Sex, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-02-26 13:22:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2653496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panicatthesipsco/pseuds/panicatthesipsco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's one thing to receive a joke gift of credit for phone sex from your employees. It's an entirely different thing to befriend one of the operators so you can waste the money having perfectly normal conversations.</p><p>(To members of the Yogscast: don't read any of my fics on stream. Don't link, repost, or reference on any other social media or website.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. to the expert in solitary confinement

**Author's Note:**

> _note: tags, ratings, etc will likely be changed as i update shit because i have very little idea where things are going_  
>     
> yoooo this is 100% inspired by the 1-800-SJINTIPS bit during the season 5 civ v playthrough (link at the end notes)
> 
> special dedication to my momfriend lisa for beta'ing draft after draft of shitty run-on sentences missing the word 'that'. you fuckin saved my ass by helping me through all this and finding my jokes funny enough to quote aloud on group calls.
> 
> if yall wanna talk au or have questions, direct them to my tumblr ([dannyavidammitross](http://dannyavidammitross.tumblr.com/ask))

The first thing Sjin learned in the phone sex business was how easy it was to simplify people. As he dirty talked and moaned for the lonely men and women who called him, the sweet-voiced operator folded laundry or wrote checks to his landlord. The task of saying the right words, making the right sounds, had become second nature to him, so he didn't notice the obtrusive habit right away. Sjin had spent so long multitasking his work as a phone operator that the routine of profiling his callers had developed like mold in bread. It didn't seem like it was there, until it very obviously was.

It was eight in the evening, and he had hardly received any callers throughout the day. He sighed and settled down at his desk, his laptop in sleep mode. He swiped his finger across the trackpad to wake it before going to the Siren Sweet company website. With a few clicks he was logged into his employee account, and he unticked the box beside his name marked AVAILABLE. He'd be removed from the list of available operators when someone called the direct line, and his extension would be disconnected until he set it up again.

He glanced around the site before a bright red banner across the top caught his eye. "NOTICE: SITE CURRENTLY EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES." Well, then. He wasn't sure how he missed seeing it before.

He picked up his company phone and checked the messages. 

(1) NEW MESSAGE FROM SSXEPHOS

From: SSXephos  
To: (Group)Staff  
 _someone must have boggled the servers by refreshing the site a load of times like an idiothole, so this months payment may be late. if you need this money today, plz stop by the office & ill write you a check._

Sjin sighed and pulled on a jacket to fend off the chill of the upcoming winter. Reluctantly, he pocketed his keys, wallet, and both of his cell phones, before heading out the door into the falling snow.

The phone sex business Sjin worked for was run by a man named Xephos. The young entrepreneur had started it in the middle of his sophomore year of college, looking for spare cash while he earned his degree in Chemistry. It had began as just a cheap, generic website with promotional flyers posted in bar bathrooms and shoved under the men's dorm's doors. Only a handful of operators had applied, the hiring pool limited to whoever knew of the small business through the advertisements, Craigslist, or Xephos himself. (In Sjin's case, he had spoken with Xephos at a party, a bit drunk, and had thought the job was The Keenest Shit Ever.) All applicants, naturally, were hired on the spot, for miniscule rates of thirty-five cents a minute compared to the current minimum of a dollar. 

In the second year of business, when the program for logging call times had been developed, more operators joined. The program eased the amount of calls, texts, and emails Xephos received, all filled with lists of time lengths to be noted, and then crosschecked with the phone company's call log, and then calculated--all by hand. Now it was all funnelled into an easy spreadsheet for each operator, formatted similarly to the phone company's bill for easy comparison. As the number of operators tripled by Xephos' and Sjin's final year of college, the growing company quickly set up a subsystem in the program. The new addition allowed the operators to list themselves as available or unavailable. Then, their current call status would be shown on the website and listed in the automated message that each caller received when they called the main line.

Soon, however, the amalgamation of equipment required to maintain the system had proven too large for Xephos' dorm, and his room was sweltering no matter the weather. Not long after, he'd hired a technician--a boy named Lalna who was _okay at best_ \--to manage the actual website and switchboard. Overall, the network was akin to a cheap telemarketing set-up; each operator received an extension number, and Lalna monitored call availability so he could redirect all calls intended for offline extensions over to automated messages. Now, a year after graduating, Xephos had set up the computer, hard drives, and program server in his home's spare bedroom, with the switchboard system and another company-dedicated computer over at Lalna's new housing. 

Sjin had only been in Xephos' new office room once, and the floor was mostly a mess of wires and fans. The room's windows both had air units in them set to negative bajillion, and the home's A/C was always cranked low, no matter the temperature outdoors. Needless to say, he no longer questioned why Xephos always had sweaters on each time Sjin saw him.

He pulled into the driveway, and before he could even shut down his car, Xephos had dashed out the door, picking his way through the snowy yard to greet him.

"Sjin! It's always good to see you, friend," he said warmly as Sjin turned off his car and opened the door. The snow was already settling into Xephos' black hair, the glittering white snowflakes like jewels scattered across his head.

Sjin smiled back. "Nice to see you again, too, Xephos."

Xephos quickly ushered him into the house, directing him to sit down on the couch before quickly placing a mug of tea in his hands, then disappearing off into the office with a rushed, "Let me find the checkbook."

As he fidgeted with the cup of tea in his hands, idly listening to the sound of Xephos mucking about in the office, Sjin glanced around the living room. He hadn't been here for over two months, only coming to Xephos' house when there were issues like these. 

It was easy to fall into his work routine as he looked at the various electronic systems around the television, the singular chair at the kitchen table, and the pizza boxes shoved halfway into the trashcan. He deduced, as he mulled over his observations, that Xephos would be a midnight caller. He'd be the type to call after staying up late playing video games, needing a quick romp to either ease the insomnia or loneliness. Sjin wasn't completely tuned in to Xephos' personal life, but was fairly certain it'd be for the former. 

Sjin noticed the thought too late and swallowed down his mortification as he realized he had just thought the word 'romp' in relation to his friend.

Xephos whooped and shouted a muffled, "I found it!" before stumbling back into the living room and waving a check in the air. Something on the floor in the hallway caught on him, blocked from Sjin's sight by the back of the couch. Xephos simply kicked his leg free as if this were a common occurrence. _Wires,_ Sjin figured. The floor was a sea of them back there.

"Here you go, Sjin." 

Sjin let a smile slide into place on his face; he was a born actor, after all. "Thank you, Xephos," he said gently, setting down his mug and standing up. Xephos handed the paycheck to him and waved the gratitude off.

"Sorry again you had to drive all this way just for this," Xephos frowned, scratching at the back of his neck. "I had to focus on putting the website and the operator logs back up instead of the payment system." 

Sjin gave him an understanding look. "Of course. And besides, it's only a fifteen minute trip." He gave a little chuckle and glanced down the hallway back to the study, which served as the server room. "Do you need any help?" 

Xephos gave an exasperated sigh and shoved his hands in his pockets."As if I would ask you for more work. You're already putting in triple your quota." 

Sjin frowned mockingly, the scowl coming off as more of a pout. "N-no I haven't." 

Xephos snorted and stepped forward, tilting his head a bit to look down at the check still in Sjin's hands. "Other operators at your commission rate make around seven hundred. You're at a little over two thousand!" Xephos pointed at the four digit number.

Sjin leaned back slightly as Xephos' head intruded in his personal bubble. "I've only been putting in the same time I always have," he protested. Xephos pulled back, a small smile on his face. 

"And at the rate you started with, you would only make seven hundred."

Sjin sighed good-naturedly and smiled back. "Well, you know." He had intended to crack a joke, but he honestly couldn't think of one. He needed this money if he wanted to maintain the lifestyle he'd fought for. Leaving it at that, Sjin let Xephos walk him to the door. A bit sad to be leaving so soon, he bade him goodbye before getting in his car. 

He dawdled a bit, feeling a bit restless and uncertain feeling, starting his car and turning on the heat. Trying to put off thinking about how he felt, he took the time to glance over his architecture work email, scanning the inbox without actually processing the words. There wouldn't be anything new, anyway.

With a sigh, he finally tossed the phone into the passenger seat and pulled away from the curb of Xephos' home office. Sjin idly considered the fast food places located along the drive back home before his thoughts were interrupted as his phone buzzed. Based on experience, he assumed it was Xephos, likely asking when he next needed to be scheduled as available for calls. He ignored it. 

Sjin's mind was drawn back to the incident in Xephos' living room, how he had viewed his boss like he did his callers. With a start, he nearly slammed on his brakes as he realized the full meaning behind that. Xephos was a good friend, even if he was a guy who had created a phone sex business in the middle of college. He wasn't one of Sjin's callers. He didn't use Sjin to fulfill some need, and Sjin certainly didn't view Xephos with the same unattached apathy that he did of the men who rang up his number.

It didn't feel fair to divide caring and complex Xephos into simple categories, like clothing waiting to be donated or kept. It felt wrong, deep to his very core, to have analyzed Xephos like he was nothing.

Even if he didn't admit to himself how much it bothered him.

He pulled into his own driveway, unlocked the house, shed his jacket, and crawled into bed before he remembered he hadn't gotten dinner. He groaned and rolled onto his stomach. He briefly considered what impact not eating tonight would have on his mood tomorrow before sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed in one fluid motion.

He kicked off his shoes before standing up and walking back out of his room, padding into the kitchen and pulling open the fridge and freezer. After a cursory glance, he pulled out a microwave meal and pulled up the corner before placing it in the microwave and jabbing in the time. The routine was etched into his muscles like an ice pick sculpts a brain. Just barely over the hum of the microwave, he heard the buzzing sound of his cell phone, muffled by his jacket pocket. He walked back out into the living room and fished his work phone out of the coat, knowing without even looking that he wasn't receiving any personal messages. Squinting down at the screen, he unlocked it and pulled down the notification bar.

(2) NEW MESSAGES FROM SSXEPHOS  
(1) NEW MESSAGE FROM SSLALNA

From: SSXephos  
To: (8982)Sjin  
 _its ok to take a break. we can send off a notice to your clients. but i cant force you so let me know if i need to tell lalna to add you to the sched. you know he hates short notice work_

_& for gods sake sjin eat something that doesnt come precooked_

From: SSLalna  
To: (8982)Sjin  
 _if i dont get an answer back within an hour whether youre going on the nights queue, youre not working until i wake up because i am NOT going to answer the phone if you try to get me to turn on your ext at three in the morning again_

As Sjin's microwave beeped, he mulled over Xephos's words (and pointedly ignored Lalna's) before walking back into the kitchen, his work phone still in his hands. He worried his lip between his teeth before finally tapping out a quick reply to Xephos.

From: (8982)Sjin  
To: SSXephos  
 _let lalna know he doesnt have to worry about me until monday :)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1-800-SJINTIPS. Just the tip, mind.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HeNMO6caMHY)
> 
> this will be continued based on how much of people seem to want more, so if you want more, comment or kudos or bookmark or subscribe, whatever floats your fancy!
> 
> chapter title by pablo neruda


	2. nothing can get you if you pay it no mind

As Sjin sat in the coffee shop, Sunday morning, he noticed it again. He had come here with the intent of a warm drink and free wifi, ready to look for more businesses to send applications to. He sipped at his coffee, the mug radiating heat into his skin. The hot liquid flowed through him, warming his chest, the heat ultimately settling in his cheeks and shoulders.

He had come to look for more work, but his eyes weren't looking at his screen. He hadn't even noticed he was people watching, not until after he had spent a good chunk of time puzzling over if the barista at the counter would be the type to call only once or retain a loyalty to one operator. Shocked by his own thinking, he coughed loudly as he nearly choked on his coffee, a few drops landing on his keyboard as he spluttered. His face quickly flushed from embarrassment, his eyes searching his booth for napkins. 

The man in the booth behind Sjin tapped him on the shoulder. Too flustered to look the stranger in the eye, Sjin turned to face him and saw he held napkins in his (worryingly pale) hand, the fingertips faintly tinted pink from the cold. Slim fingers led up to the sleeve of some sort of expensive suit, if what Sjin could see of the sleek fabric and diamond cufflinks were anything to go by. Probably a businessman here for his morning coffee. Realizing he was overthinking things again, Sjin immediately shut down that train of thought.

"Here," the businessman said smoothly. Sjin mumbled a 'thank you' and took the napkins before dabbing at his keyboard, wanting to end the conversation before it went any further.

He should've said more, thanked him more politely at the very least, but Sjin returned to his work with gusto, eager to brush aside any more of this profiling nonsense. Thoughts of his operator work would remain in its scheduled time. For now, he needed to apply to more jobs.

His rudeness didn't seem to have mattered, anyway, as the man stood up, and the rustle of money slipping out of a wallet was heard. Against his better judgement, Sjin paused and listened, as a soft _thunk_ was heard. He didn't dare look, but he assumed the man had left a tip under his empty mug. He focused his eyes back on his screen pointedly, his cheeks heating once more, seeing a glimpse of the same dark blue suit in his peripheral for a split second before the bells above the front of the shop jangled.

Sjin slouched a bit in his seat. _Really,_ he decided, _it doesn't matter I didn't do the polite thing and start a conversation. In fact, it only would've inconvenienced him! He probably has very important businessman things to do. Cutting ribbons, kissing babies._ He frowned and leaned forward once more. _No, that's mayors._

He shook his head and took another drink of his cooling coffee. He really had to send out these applications. He spent more than enough time thinking about others, what they did and what they wanted. This was his time for himself, and by golly he would leave here with more companies in possession of his resume!

[+]

Now, Sips was a reasonable man. He wasn't the kind of no-nonsense CEO who spent all day smoking cigars in his office, yelling at underpaid employees and plotting with his fingers templed. He could take a joke. (Nay, he was the _king_ of jokes. _Yeah._ )

He had just returned from the nearby coffee shop, having treated himself to a nice caffeinated beverage that didn't come from a coffee machine. (Or at least, _his_ coffee machine.) He had deserved it after spending weeks of sleepless nights planning and perfecting his presentation to City Hall for the proper papers and permits for a second factory. If all went well and he raked in enough of the big money, he'd be able to establish a second office on the opposite coast.

Really, he shouldn't even be drinking coffee after spending weeks living off of it, but damn if he'd be caught passed out over his desk again. He settled in his comically large desk chair (he deserved nothing but the best), recalling the story. He had been woken for a meeting, and his drool had caused papers to stick to his face. _Ahhh, yes._ He glanced down at his desk as he settled in, intending to jokingly gauge whether he had any stray paper to fall asleep on, when his eyes fell on a tin box. It was what looked like a dollar store gift-card container, if the shape was anything to go by--it was hard to tell, as it was wrapped in what looked like multiple layers of an elementary student's drawings.

Picking it up carefully, he peered at it closer. It was mostly three stick figures drawn in colored pen, the trio scattered all over in clusters...all wearing top hats. He snorted as he realized this was the self-proclaimed 'Hat Films' trio's work. They worked in marketing, but had quickly developed a steadfast friendship with their boss at the corporate Christmas party the year prior. Rather than partaking in the festivities, they insisted he join them for some gaming back at their office. (And of course he'd agreed--being the CEO of your own company meant giving _speeches_. Absolutely terrible.)

He carefully unwrapped it before setting the doodled printer paper aside. Sure enough, it was a cheap gift card tin, coated with some sort of sparkly paint that shed glitter across his lap. He popped it open and--

Well. What the everloving fuck had those fantastic bastards done now?

In the place of where a gift card would lay rest a single business card for some cheesy-sounding phone sex company called Siren Sweet. (He mentally gagged before highfiving himself for the sick burn.) An arrow drawn along the bottom pointed to the edge of the card. Following the directions, he flipped it over.

The back was covered with writing, the three boys finishing each other's sentences like the most natural thing in the world. One's handwriting blended into another's in an ombre effect of each man's personality and style.

 _Good day!_ Ross's handwriting declared. _We thought someone might as well get you a present, and what better way than helping our good man get laid?_ Trott's continued, before Smiffy's scrawl took over. _**We spent a good deal of time researching companies, and while we would have loved to invest in a particularly sleazy and illegal gift,** Turps talked us out of it. Doesn't want more work for the legal team. _

Sips grinned. He could imagine the trio bickering with Turps, all crowded around his desk while he tried to work. Now, _that_ certainly would've been an explosive reaction. He hoped the good sirs recorded it.

_**We each pitched in ~~a grand each~~ half a grand of credit, and Turps chipped in with $1500 to round it out. We all thought, might as well give a small business some growth since we know you won't use the money anyway!** _

Their names were scrawled along the bottom, along with what he assumed was an account number and pin code. Sips grinned as he noticed Turps' name wasn't signed in his own writing. (Of _course_ he'd know what the head of PR's writing looked like; he wrote half of Sips' speeches. The hats _surely_ knew this, too.) One of the boys probably forged it instead of handing Turps the card and letting him realize they had almost claimed his portion as their own.

In Sips' head, he could practically hear them arguing; Trott using the tone of voice he always did when he wanted to be seen as The Good Guy, Smiffy making a loud (and solid) case about how easy it would be to snatch up the credit for themselves, and Ross lounging and watching, occasionally throwing in snips and snide remarks.

Sips leaned back, kicking his feet up on his mahogany desk, holding the business card in his hand and flipping it back over. Three grand. Three _grand,_ in phone sex credit. (He obviously paid these men too much.) He pressed his fingertips against two opposite corners of the card before spinning it with his thumb as he pondered this. He could let the money go to waste. (They obviously thought that's what he'd do, anyway.) Or... _or!_

He spun the card again. He could ring the company up, get one of the callers to play along, let him waste his employees' cash. He grinned at the thought of paying an operator to just leave the phone running. 

Sips liked this idea. He liked this a _lot._

He paused in his scheming as someone knocked on his door. "Yeah?" he called.

The door cracked open and Turps popped his head in. "Press release in ten to cover the new factory." Sips groaned and set the card down on the desk before closing his eyes and rubbing his face. 

"Oh, god, I completely forgot." 

He shook his head as if to shake off the fatigue before standing up. He sent a confused, then accusing glare at Turps as he saw the way he was eyeing his pants before glancing down himself.

Only to catch the end of the glitter shower falling from his lap. Bits of the offending sparkles still clung to the fabric of his pants. Sips rolled with it, flashing Turps a grin before striding across the room and pulling the door open. He walked past him, a thinning trail of sparkling dust following behind the CEO.

"Oh, and by the way, loved the card you wrote with the hats for your present," he called behind him, Turps footsteps faltering as he processed what his boss said.

A pause, a sharp inhale.

"Oh, for fuck sake!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meanwhile, somewhere in a coffee shop nearby, a tv is broadcasting the sipsco press release with the ceo looking like he just came from a strip club, while sjin is stubbornly tuning everything out.
> 
> chapter title by kate buckley


	3. come as you are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey friends, quick warning i guess because i'm hesitant to post this without one--
> 
> there's one phrase that could be miscontrued as kink shaming (both me and in-fic Sips don't intend it that way) and sips assumes pronouns (correctly) based on voice alone. just wanted to give a heads up in case either of those might skeev y'all out
> 
> also, important info in the end note having to do with my plans for updates.

Days passed, the tin box untouched in the drawer of Sips' desk, and soon it was over a week since the sirs gave it to him. With the hustle and bustle of the new factory, everyone was busy having meetings and getting his signature. He practically _breathed_ paperwork from how much it consumed his time.

It was night, nearly dinner time, and he was still cooped up in his office reviewing papers he needed to read and sign by morning. He had forgotten by now about the business card and its expensive pin code, so he was momentarily confused when he reached into his desk drawer for a new pad of sticky notes, his fingers brushing across the rough surface of the box. He pulled his hand back on instinct. A smile tugged at his lips as the light from his desk lamp caught on the glitter dusted across his fingertips.

He lifted the lid off the box and pulled out the card, flipping it over and holding it in his fingers. He thought for a moment before leaning forward and picking up his phone. He then pulled the phone base closer, kicked his feet up on his desk, and leaned back in his chair. Sips dialed the number with one hand and held the card with the other, the phone cradled between his ear and his shoulder.

“ _Hello_ ,” a woman's smooth voice purred from the phone. “ _Thank you for calling Siren Sweet. If you are a first-time caller, press one. If you are a repeat caller_ –” He didn't let it finish, jamming the one button before the automated message could finish. A beat of silence, then the new message spoke. “ _Welcome. We will bill your phone company at the completion of your call. To set up a recurring account payment plan_ –”

He groaned and pressed the switch hook before redialing. This was starting to become too much of a hassle. Maybe he could just forget about it and let the money waste away. He wasn't one to get embarrassed, but he didn't exactly pursue the experience either. He ignored the recording and this time pressed two.

“ _Please enter your account number and pin code now_.” **_Beeeep_**.

He squinted at the business card and jabbed the numbers without looking at the phone base. And of _course_ , it gave him an error message. He sighed and set the phone back in the base and tossed the card aside. It was too much difficulty for what it was worth. He’d probably ruin some operator’s night, too, hassling them to put aside the phone while he worked. It was a weird idea anyway.

He scrubbed his face with his hands and looked back at his paperwork. The words across the page slipped out of clarity no matter how hard he tried to buckle down and concentrate, his mind remaining restless. He was reading the words, but wasn’t processing them. With an exasperated sigh, he pushed his chair back from his desk and looked on the ground for the card. He snatched it up after a moment’s hesitation and pulled the phone back to rest against his ear before hitting redial. He jammed two the moment the call went through and tapped in his account information, making sure to look at the number pad as he entered it, relying on his eyes rather than muscle memory. He was starting to consider just heading home and coming in early tomorrow if he messed up the pin code again. No point adding more stress on top of the paperwork.

The phone chimed in his ear. “ _Your current account balance is three-thousand dollars_.” Well, at least he didn't hire liars. (He knew deep down that they lied straight to his face quite often, but, still, he was touched by the gesture.) “ _For your pleasure, would you like to enact a particular fantasy, or are you ready to be surprised_?”

He stifled a groan, wary of who may hear him do so on the other end. This was quickly sounding like a two-dollar romance novel having failed to sell even after being tossed in the bargain bin. Hopefully they’d spend his employees' money on better writing.

“Surprise me,” he grumbled. Did people really go through this much work just to get off?

A second passed, then four, then ten. He wondered if he hadn't said the right keywords when a soft but clearly masculine voice spoke over the line.

“ _Hello, I'm Sjin. What would you like for me to do for you_?” The operator's words were sultry, a certain gravelly edge under the reedy tones of his voice.

Sips wasn't the type to be nervous in embarrassing situations. He had easily mastered public speaking, even if he hated the wasted time (and those damn constricting ties.) He had easily adapted when he was teased and prodded and ridiculed by the hat trio, especially during their questionable house parties that seemed to veer towards orgies. (Or at least, that's what he imagined happened after he left. It may have just been Trott, Ross, and Smith who ended up that way, _if_ the tales his other employees told him were to be believed.) He was certain, with this much experience under his belt, that he could handle an awkward conversation with a phone sex operator.

“Yeah, okay, Sjin.” He said it 'shin,' his tongue completely disregarding the J. “This is gonna sound weird but can you just like, set the phone down?”

The operator paused, as if not sure how to respond, before saying gently, “ _I assure you, sir, the request isn't weird at all. I get it quite often_.”

Sips frowned, the phone still pressed to his ear as he considered this. He had intended to set the phone down and get on with his work, satisfied with the relaxing concept of wasting three thousand dollars, but his curiosity quickly won out. “What? Is that an actual kink?”

He heard a muffled, confused intake of breath from the other side of the line. “ _Y-yeah_?” He had obviously surprised the man.

Sips tucked that information away for later. “Jeez, how much are they paying you?” It wasn't a particularly weird concept, but it was strange to know this knowledge had slipped from his awareness. He was normally quite on top of these things. (He was certainly kept informed by his friends; those loving bastards, who so caringly gave an asexual _phone sex_ as a gift!)

Sjin spluttered, and Sips smiled, thinking of how he had  
managed to trip up the operator. (And he might as well get to throw him for a loop. He was prank calling him, after all.) “ _You don't even know the pay rate_?”

“Nah, man,” Sips drawled. “I have credit. I'm not really into all this sex stuff, but my employees thought they'd give me three grand of phone sex as a joke. Joke's on those chumps, I intend to waste their money without even getting phone-laid.”

Sjin scoffed (or maybe gasped) before bursting into laughter, the sound throaty. Sips listened in wonder as his laugh changed pitch every few moments, as if Sjin's amusement kept surprising him. Sips found it absolutely fascinating.

“ _You're paying to prank call me_!” Sjin said finally, his voice cracking as he spoke through his laughter.

“I'm paying to prank call you so I can in turn prank my employees,” Sips replied in a serious tone, all while a smile broke across his face.

“ _Oh yes of course, my apologies, my good sir_ ,” Sjin said with a mock serious accent, but Sips could hear the grin in his words.

“It's very serious business, you know, Sjin, wasting those bastards' money over the phone. You have to make sure you don't piss any operators off, you see, otherwise they'll turn down the offer for free money.”

More laughter bubbled up to his ears. “ _God forbid_!”

Sips leaned back further and grinned. He wanted to make Sjin laugh more, but he was running out of material to work with. “So how does this whole phone sex business thing work? I want to know what my employees are paying for.”

“ _Well_ ,” Sjin started, the laughter quieting. A comfortable silence settled between the two as he considered where to begin. “ _I suppose it varies between companies, though I've only ever worked here_.”

“What's working at, uh, whatever you guys are called, what's that like?” Sips prompted. He heard a quiet chuckle from the operator.

“ _Siren Sweet_.” Oh, right, _that_ mess of a name. “ _I think the best way to summarize the company is to use the word 'unprofessional_.' "

“Why's that? Is it your high-tolerance of prank callers?”

He could hear the smile in Sjin's voice as he spoke. “ _Don't forget you're_ paying _to prank call me_ ,” Sjin said in a joke warning tone. Sips chuckled. “ _A good chunk of it, though, would have to be pinned on the fact the company was started while all of us were in college_.”

Sips' eyebrows raised at that. Certainly would explain the cheap writing for the automated messages. “What, like part of the whole experimenting in college experience?” he deadpanned.

Sjin scoffed. “ _Are you implying there's something wrong with experimenting in college_?”

Sips' grin softened. “No, no, of course not,” he reassured him.

Sjin simply laughed at the other end of the line. “ _Don't worry about it. It was more of the_ tuition is expensive and I'm sick of eating ramen _experience, anyway_.”

“Ahhhh, of course,” Sips said simply. He had spent most of his business degree eating fast food burgers and donating whatever bodily fluids he could. He could definitely understand the appeal of the job. “So give me a play-by-play, how does the process work? Let's assume I don't have three-k to blow, what would I have to do to end up here?” He couldn't help but be curious. He had started his company young as well, soon after graduating, and he itched to know the details of the Siren Sweet infrastructure.

“ _Are you sure you want to hear about this_?” Sjin asked. “ _It's very boring and unerotic_.”

Sips bit back cracking a joke about being ace. This wasn't the sirs or Turps. “Don't worry, dude, I eat this kind of shit up for breakfast.”

“ _Well, alright. Usually you have to put in your billing information_ ,” Sjin began. “ _Then you have to decide what pay rate you want to pay. There's a dollar, dollar-fifty, two dollar, and three dollar rates per minute. The more hard-working operators have higher rates. We have higher monthly quotas_.”

“So you're a high pay-rate operator, then, Sjinny boy?” Sips asked smoothly.

“ _I suppose so_ ,” Sjin chuckled simply.

Sips noticed he avoided answering him directly and decided to leave that topic alone. He knew well the value of intracompany secrets.

“So let's say I pick whatever rate you are. What happens then?”

“ _Then you're asked if you want anything particular or if you're fine with a random operator. Our switchboard monitor then has to listen to the message and decide who to redirect your call to_.”

“Ahh, no wonder it took forever.” This was getting interesting. Sips pictured the path in his head, a map of the system thus far explained.

Sjin was silent on the other end. Sips paused his internal imagery and listened carefully for any sign Sjin was still there, a bit disappointed that the call might've dropped. Finally, he heard a sigh.

“ _Yes, well, I suppose that might be because the switchboard operator is a_ jerk.”

“Oh?” Sips asked, smothering his relieved tone under the question. No need for the other man to know that. He might charge an additional fee for caring.

He listened intently as Sjin's voice grew more confident, going on a rant about some vague, undescribed incident that happened at a company party, resulting in a long-term grudge between the two. (Sips sorely wanted more details, but he kept quiet. He had noticed that Sjin had avoided names.)

Sips howled with laughter when Sjin told him about waking the switchboard operator a few months ago with several phone calls late at night to get him to turn Sjin's line on, resulting in a shouting match between the two, and soon Sjin's voice was cracking and fumbling as he realized the sheer absurdity of it all. He could barely speak through his laughter, only causing Sips to laugh more alongside him.

The only passage of time Sips was aware of was the increasing ache in his lower back from sitting slouched in his office chair for so long, but he ignored it in favor of sharing his own stories of annoying company parties. He kept his own company secrets to himself, avoiding his name or the name SipsCo, steering clear of his employees names as well. He was too high-profile, the company too well-known; Turps would have an aneurysm cleaning up the mess if it got out the CEO of SipsCo had a tryst with paid phone sex.

When the conversation lulled to an easy quiet, Sips made the mistake of glancing at the time. “Oh fuck,” he grumbled. An hour had passed, and he still had a metric fuckton of paperwork to sift through.

“ _What_?” Sjin asked, startled.

“Listen, it was great talking to you, and I'm sure you loved me padding your wallet–”

“ _Hey, I_ –”

“–but I really have to finish up this work by tomorrow,” Sips talked over him. “Have a good night, Sjin.”

He hung up. He didn't dwell on the disappointed tone in Sjin's voice, or the way he had been about to protest that the operator's tolerance hadn't been only about the money. Sips was a no-nonsense man, naturally (no joking allowed here), and he had faffed about far too long delaying these contracts.

(He would swear up and down that was the reason Turps found him passed out on his desk the next morning.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from a song of the same name by nirvana
> 
> Yooo bustin' out proper grammar cos this is important. Okay so as y'all might've noticed, I went from weekly updates to disappearing almost completely. This had to do with 50% the livestream debacle, 10% learning information that turned me off of Yogscast for a week or so, and 40% the holidays.
> 
> All of those are over and done with, but nonetheless the fic will still be a bit slow to update in the upcoming month. This has to do mainly with a writing commission I need to complete soon, and getting back into my school routine. I also may take some time out of my freetime to further expand other fic ideas I have (so at least some of this time is going towards more fics for you guys!) However, I intend to get back into the weekly schedule during February! I can't tell you how many chapters will be uploaded between now and then, so my apologies in advance if you end up not hearing from me.


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